Slash fiction isn’t usually much on the menu around here. But in keeping with the theme from Sunday, I can’t resist posting this little gem involving the practical jokes of elves. Herewith: What to Do with a Tied Up Marchwarden by Khylaren and Larien Elengasse:

The proud marchwarden of Lothl?rien was nude and trussed neatly like a wild turkey, left for the seneschal of Rivendell to find.

“Well,” he drawled softly, crouching down next to Haldir. “Someone left me a wee gift.” He grinned inwardly as he saw the Marchwarden stiffen at the insult. There was nothing small about the L?rien Elf, and Glorfindel knew it. Broad shouldered and slim hipped; the other warrior was easily as tall as the Vanya.

Haldir’s eyes narrowed above the gag that prevented him from speaking, but his expression was plainly read; this was not his idea.
…
His perfect lips pursed slightly as he considered his options. Ravishment? No, he did not think that would do at all, for Haldir did not seem to be the type to be ravished. Seduction? Ah, yes, that was the answer. It was the key to unlocking the chains of composure that bound Haldir so tightly. The question was, how to seduce such a creature, and make him give into the need he so obviously suffered from? And to make him delight in giving in to it.

Haldir turned his head to the side, studying the shadowed profile of the Elf lying next to him, wondering if Glorfindel had fallen into reverie. He was embarrassed, humiliated, and angry at the seneschal’s treatment of him; swatting his behind like a naughty Elfling! And then leaving him this way, trussed up with nowhere to go, and nothing to do but feel the delicious ache of desire that had build steadily within him. He closed his eyes in frustration, and felt the mattress dip slightly as Glorfindel rolled to face him.

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